Shades Of Slay
by nutshak
Summary: A one-shot series, focusing on the unfortunate misadventures of Eragon and Saphira. Enjoy!
1. The Scales Have Changed

**Omg everyone Guess what!? nothing really i just decided to get all my oneshots and bring them together in one place so they are easier for you to read! i guess they are all kind of related anyway. They are al written by me! hehe enjoy!**

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The sun slowly rose above the mass of tents that was the Varden's campsite. Eragon ShadeSlayer lay just outside his tent, not doing anything of interest.

Saphira suddenly landed beside him, blasting him with a cloud of dirt.

_What are you doing, little one?_

"Watching the grass grow." He said out loud.

_An interesting hobby. _She observed.

Eragon rolled and stood up, dusting himself down. _"Indeed it is." _

_Is this some patience exercise you are inventing? _

"No. I was merely thinking, is all."

_About?_

"Scales." He said.

Saphira moved her massive head to look at her back, then returned her gaze to Eragon. _What about them?"_

Eragon walked to Saphira and stroked one of her many sapphire scales. "Not literal scales, Saphira. Imaginary ones."

_Imaginary scales? What is the purpose?_

"Well," Eragon turned to lean against the dragon. "I was thinking, Now that the Green Egg has hatched, the scales have changed."

_The imaginary scales?_ Eragon could sense confusion radiating from her.

"Correct."

_Eragon, you're not making any sense._

"I mean," he waved his hand around. "Now that we have another Dragon and Rider, It evened the odds of us defeating Galbatorix."

_But was does this have to do with scales?_

Eragon pondered ways of explaining this to Saphira, before: "Think of a log of wood, balancing on a stone. A stone is in the middle." Eragon sent her an image of the said log.

"Now, Galbatorix is on one end, and we are on the other." He sent another image.

_Right..._

"Galbatorix is stronger than us, so his end gets weighed down more."

_Okay._

"But now _we _have another Rider and Dragon, so our end gets heavier, and the log balances equally."

She gazed at him with a massive eye. _I still see no relevance to scales._

"It's just an expression!"

_You don't seem to be wearing scales on your expression._

"A metaphor, then."

They sat in comfortable silence until they saw the newly hatched green dragon zipping though the air unsteadily, before crashing into a pile of dirt. When it rose from the muck, his pure green glow had turned completely brown. Not a speck of green could be seen.

_Ah. _Saphira said. _I see his scales have changed. _

--

--


	2. Dear Friend

Roran walked up behind Eragon, who was standing silently, watching an Elf bound around the forest.

"Greetings, dear friend." Roran clasped Eragon on the shoulder.

Eragon turned and smiled. "Ah, Roran. You are not my dear friend, Cousin. You are my family. Much closer than any friend."

"Thank you, Cousin." Said Roran. "Though I have never really considered the Definition of a dear friend, it still means a lot."

They embraced, before turning their attention back towards the strange Elf.

"So..." started Roran. "How long is he going to stay out there?"

"Well," Replied Eragon. "It depends. It might be a century, it might be a day. Not even he knows."

"Right... And he just does that all day?"

"Yes. Well that, and other things."

"Other things like what?"

Eragon considered the Question.

"Well he has to feed."

Roran turned to him. "Are you sure?"

"Unless elves don't need food, fairly sure."

"Oh. What does he eat?"

"Same thing they do." Eragon gestured to the pack of deer.

Roran fell silent, before:

"And he wanted it to be like this?"

"Yes."

"...Seems like a waste of time, doesn't it?"

"When you live forever, you don't really keep track of time."

"Right."

The elf stopped abruptly and started scratching behind his ear with the paws he had genetically modified.

"Don't you think," Roran said, "That if all the elves teamed up, they could easily defeat Galbatorix? I mean, if they can alter their appearance so much, without coming anywhere near close to dyeing, all of them together would be no match for the Big King, right?"

"Maybe. But then the he would have won anyway, as the Elves wouldn't really be Elves anymore."

"How do you figure?"

"They are a peaceful people." The Elf looked like it was playing a game with the other deer. "If they started attacking everybody, they would destroy everything they believe in."

"Fair enough."

They stood in comfortable silence at the edge of the clearing, watching the strange being frolic with a different species, until again Roran piped up,

"Well, couldn't someone design a potion that instantly knocks someone out and puts them to sleep? Then you could sneak into Galbatorix's house and throw the potion at him, then while he is asleep assault his mind and kill him."

"It's not that easy. All his wards would protect him and vent out the potion."

"Oh. Well, guess we'll have to stick to the original plan, then."

"We had a plan?" asked Eragon.

"Aye. Try not to get killed." Roran grinned.

Eragon smiled with him. "Aye, stick to the plan."

The Elf, by now, was resting against the trunk of a tree. Another deer, a doe, walked up to him and nuzzled him in the side before lying down next to him.

"Looks like they're getting along well." Eragon noted.

"Yes." Roran smiled. "I guess _that's_ what you'd call a Deer Friend."

--

--


	3. Green Eggs and Ham

**Green eggs, and ham.**

"Roran." Eragon stated with a flat voice.

"No! Eragon, I don't even want it to hatch for me! I just want my new life with Katrina to be normal!"

"The fate of Alagaesia rests on it!" Eragon was following Roran through the Varden, heading in the general direction of Roran's tent. The young rider was trying to convince his cousin that the green egg would hatch for him, and it would benefit everyone.

"Why? Isn't the almighty Eragon strong enough?" Roran argued.

"No, not by myself." He sighed. "Please Roran, just try it! Surely it will hatch for you."

"No! I don't want to be a rider!" Roran jumped over a burnt out campfire.

"Who knows, you might like it!"

"That's what I'm afraid of." They reached his tent and Roran turned to look Eragon in the eye. "Look, I know you mean well... But for the sake of the people I love, I can't do it. Especially not now that Katrina is pregnant."

"So you're saying you don't love me? What about all the people from the village? What are we to you?"

Roran sighed heavily before grabbing Eragon's shoulders, as if to shake some sense into him. "You are all my family. I was talking about Katrina, and the baby. And I have complete faith that you will be strong enough to defeat Galbatorix. Especially now that you know his weakness."

"I might be strong enough, but just barely, and even then we have to separate Galbatorix from his Eldunari. And even with that small advantage, Either me, or Saphira, could be permanently maimed or worse. With your help, we could take him down for sure."

"Have you even tried giving Arya a chance to touch the Egg? She is an elf, after all, and would be much more helpful than a human Rider."

"No. She is still in a coma from the... Incident. The magicians don't want to wake her up yet, for fear of mental damage."

Roran guided Eragon into the musky, worn out tent and sat down, offering Eragon a drink. He accepted.

After downing the fluid, Eragon resumed his arguments.

"Please, Roran. Just try it. It might not even hatch! We just need to be certain, so we can move on and give everyone else a chance."

Roran studied the Famous Shur'Tugal in front of him. "Alright." He finally caved. "Just one touch. No more."

Eragon let out a breath before breaking into a huge grin. "Thank you, Roran. Thank you." He leaned back in his chair before asking, "Can I get you anything?"

Roran considered the question for a minute, and then said:

"Some ham would be nice."


	4. The Lonesome, Gregarious Cowboy

The party was Raging. Drinks where being splashed everywhere, jokes where being told, merriment was evident everywhere. Eragon had had his fair share of ale, and Saphira was nagging him to leave.

_Just a moment! _He mentally shouted. _I'm having a great time._

_Eragon. _She said firmly. _The noise is making my head throb. Cannot we leave?_

_...Okay. _Eragon finally gave in. Just as he was about to leave, someone shouted:

"Tell a story, Eragon!"

"Yes, a story of your adventures!" another man agreed.

Eragon turned around slowly. _Can't Disappoint, can I? _Eragon asked Saphira.

Saphira growled, but came lumbering over to the table. Eragon jumped up. And grabbed everyone's attention with a quick voice enhancing spell.

"A story you want, is it?" Eragon asked. The crowd cheered. "Then a story you shall get! But not one of me... One of a man who was a scoundrel, a highwayman with no honour." Again, the crowd cheered.

Saphira sighed. She was going to get Eragon back for this.

Eragon quickly willed the magic to make his voice a suitable level.

"Let me tell a story, that was told one time to me, by people who had had it told to them! By their Four-Fathers."

_And four Mothers. _Saphira projected to everyone. They burst out laughing.

Eragon glared. "What's important is the story of a stranger, who came riding on his horse, on a dusty trail."

_He's embellishing by saying that it was a dusty trail. _Saphira added again. _But I think it's pretty safe to assume._

"No one knew where he came from! No one knew who he was!"

_But presumably his parents and a few child hood chums, knew him. _

Eragon sighed. "He rode a horse, a great black stead, and spirit was his name!"

_The horses name, not the bloke._

"The finest gambler in the county! He broke all the ladies hearts!"

_He's still talking about the horse. _Saphira added.

Eragon smiled. "The man rode round performing acts, that may have broke the law!"

_Or angered someone, in some other way._

"So subsequently he was inevitably caught up with by some state or county appointed local figure of authority-"

_Or local strong man._

"One faithful day."

_Or night._

The crowd was in hysterics. "But before a judge or jury, he may have been put to death! Or he may have escaped in some exciting way!"

_Or boring way._ Said Saphira. _Like a legal loophole. _

Eragon was laughing too, now. "There he goes! Riding into the sun!"

_His skin burns off his bones as he nears the glowing flame!_

"No, It's a metaphor!" Eragon yelled.

_No it's not. You said he was riding into the sun._

"Yes, a Metaphor!"

Saphira turned her head to the crowd. _What say you?_

The crowd, who were listening intently, all at once, said: "Yes, Definitely a metaphor!"

The Sapphire Dragon rolled her Eyes. _Humans and their words._

"And they called him, The Lonesome, Gregarious Cowboy!"

The Crowd madly applauded, still laughing, and drank some more.

_Can we go now? _Saphira asked.

Eragon smiled and leapt to her back, landing softly. "Aye, time for bed." Saphira made her way outside, before leaping into the cool, crisp night and gaining altitude with each massive wing beat.

They soared for a time before Saphira Folded her wings in and dived, pulling up at the last minute. She landed with a short thump. Eragon jumped down.

Eragon walked to his tent flap, before mentally deciding something and turning around. "You know, it's such a nice night tonight I think I might sleep out here." He walked back to her and lay down beside her.

She curled her tail around him.

Eragon let out a brisk laugh. "Well that was exciting, to say the least."

_Actually strictly speaking to say the least would be to say nothing._

He smiled. "Aye, it would. Goodnight, Saphira."

_May your dreams be well, little one. _

--

--


	5. Tree's Bark?

**Hiiiiii everyone! I haven't uploaded a story in a while… I wonder why that is… No matter, I just uploaded one! I got the idea from a school project thingy. There's a reference to "Dear Friend" in here as well you might want to check it out. Sorry if thee two seem a bit OOC. I haven't read any of the inheritance cycle for ages. Anyway, enjoy!**

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A glint of sapphire blue could be seen flashing off the sparkling water as a majestic dragon lazed about next to a small lake under a lush palm like tree. The sun was out, beating down on the dried, cracked ground with a passion.

"The brown furry creatures, little one?"

If one where to observe the scene from afar, they would gather that the dragon was simply trying to gain some sweat minutes of rest, not having a detailed conversation with her rider. About the sounds animals make, no less.

The Rider, extremely drowsily, lifted his head from the dragon's powerful lower limb and replied to the previously asked question. "Bears, you mean?"

"If that's what you call them."

"Yes, that's what we call them." Eragon confirmed. "They make the sound of… They make the sound of thunder. But a controlled thunder, like a rushing waterfall."

"What do you call the sound?" Saphira queried.

"It's called the same as when you make noise from your mouth. A roar."

The boy relaxed his muscles and sunk his head back to rest once again on the sinewy thigh of his dragon. A comfortable silence drifted over the conversation as both their energies where sapped from the heat of the suns rays. Saphira could feel Eragon drifting off to sleep.

"What about game?"

Eragon thought about it. "Deer you mean? Don't make me talk about deer, Saphira. Remember what I told you about last time?"

"As you wish, little one." She agreed. "Would rabbit be preferable?"

Eragon looked satisfied. "Rabbits… They make two different sounds. A squeaking sound, which is quite irritable. It's just a high pitched squeal. "

Saphira blinked her massive eyelids. "And the second sound?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain. It really is just a grunt. Like if you where to grind rocks against your teeth."

"And this helps them?"

"Not really." Eragon rubbed his stubble. "It's just the sound they make."

Saphira yawned. "How do you possibly come up with names for all these strange noises?"

Eragon could honestly say he was stumped. He thought about the question. "Well, I guess it's just what the noises have or what they sound like?"

Saphira looked puzzled. Eragon picked up on her bewilderment and asked her what she was puzzled about.

"If noises are named from what they sound like or have," she started. "Why aren't plants named with noises?"

Eragon nodded. "I guess your right. We should come up with names for plants. It's just, regular humans can't hear plants. They aren't tuned into nature."

The dragon gazed about, and, sighting one of the few patches of grass on the mostly brown expanse of desert, said; "What noise name should grass have, little one?"

Eragon reached out, and linked with the many blades of grass. Too him, it sounded as if old paper was being rustled together as lightly as possible.

"It sounds like paper…" he voiced his opinion. "And it's green. But we can't just go around saying 'listen to the grass. It's green paper-ing.'"

Saphira didn't agree. "Why is that?"

"Well… because…" Eragon saw how trying to explain the natural language of humans to a dragon would fail miserably, so he gave up and moved to the next plant. "Never mind. What about the tree we're under? What noise would we call that?"

Saphira leaned in close. The hollow inside made the slightest noise reverberate a thousand times over, bouncing off the pipe like walls of the wooden structure.

"It sounds like one of the things humans hit with a stick."

"What?"

"The instrument, Eragon. It's a circle and your kind hit it with a stick."

Eragon realised she was talking about a drum. He jumped up from his lounging position, all traces of fatigue forgotten, and wandered over to the tree. He put his ear against it.

"Do you have a name for this noise, little one?"

"No. But your right, it does sound like a drum."

"Then I think we should call it drum-ing."

"But it's not drumming, Saphira. And that doesn't have anything to do with the exterior!"

"Well, what is on the outside of the tree?" Saphira gestured to the bark with a nod of her gigantic skull.

Eragon traced his hands over the rough grey surface, feeling the warped skin and twisted knots.

"It's called bark."

"So can we not say the tree is barking?"

"No, that's the noise dog's make!"

"Are you telling me this tree is a dog?"

"No of course no-"

"Because that's what it sounds like, Eragon."

"No, I was saying that dogs bark!" Eragon was frustrated from the abrupt interruption. Saphira could feel it, and decided to have some fun.

"Do dogs have bark?" she questioned.

"No, Saphira, they do not hav-"

"Does this tree have bark?"

Eragon sighed. "Yes, Saphira, this tree has bark."

Saphira was finding it extremely difficult to hold a straight face, but she prevailed and kept serious.

"So why not say this tree barks, little one?"

"Because dog's bark!"

"But they don't have bark."

"Yes, they make bark!"

"They make bark?"

Eragon face palmed. "No, they make the noise of barking!"

"But they do not have bark?"

"No."

"Then why is their noise called a bark?"

"Because! It just sounds like the word bark when they make noise!" The boy was waving his arms around like his head was chopped off.

Saphira couldn't keep this up for longer. Eragons reaction was priceless!

"But you said, little one, that the noise is named because of what an animal has and what is sounds like?"

Eragons teeth where receiving a brutal clenching punishment. "Well, I guess I was wrong, Saphira."

"What was that?"

"I said I was wrong! You don't have to rub it in." Eragon crossed his arms and skulked back to his former position at the dragon's hind legs. He sunk to the ground and landed with a dull thump.

The soft lull of the sun once again made itself prominent in the environment, this time giving some leeway as its harsh rays had died down somewhat as the day progressed. The sunset could be seen in the far distance, and the coupled heat of the ground was rising in its muggy blur to the sky, bubbling away into the atmosphere.

The Dragon and Rider had accomplished another comfortable silence. The boy thought this would be the last he heard of the matter until…

"Honestly Eragon, I don't know how your possibly going to defeat Galbatorix with such poor language skills!"

__

End!


	6. Drunk On Love

**Drunk On Love.**

"Saphira," Eragon said, as he and the gigantic lumbering form of a dragon strolled through the main camp of the Varden. The sun, as a sun does, was burning brightly in the sky, billions of miles away, yet its extreme rays of harsh heat where making the day slow and dusty. A frail wind made the extreme conditions slightly more bearable, yet not enough for the lowly township to pick up a rake and do their allotted amount of handy work needed to keep the stronghold steady.

"What are you complaining for? I barely feel the heat." The boy had a slight skip in his step and a twinkle in his eye. His counterpart thought it oddly amusing.

"You don't feel the heat, little one? A gnat would think it hot!" she said, exasperatedly.

"Don't be silly." He scolded lightly. "Gnats don't feel heat."

"How did you establish that?" Saphira stepped over yet another lazing body that did not even have the emotional strength to scramble out of the way of the huge beast. "Have you ever had a conversation with a gnat?"

"No…" he said airily. "But I should one day. Do you know of any?"

Saphira rolled her eyes. "I have a close personal friend on my lower right back. We talk often. His name is Jacob, and his favourite colour is green." She nodded.

"Interesting…" The boy kept walking.

"I have a giant fluffy bunny on my head and he is doing a dance."

Eragon didn't notice the ridiculous statement. "That's nice…" he reached to the ground and picked a flower from amongst the brown dirt.

"Eragon watch out! Galbatorix is attacking the camp with zombie deer!" Saphira added a bit of enthusiasm to the statement.

"I should do something." He sniffed the flower and put it in his hair, still completely unawares of his surrounding. Saphira new what would gain his attention.

"Arya is changing under a nearby tree."

Eragon stopped abruptly. "huh… WHAT!? WHERE!?" Eragon looked around frantically, eyes dodging from place to place, and back again.

Saphira chuckled. "Snap out of it, Eragon. You're setting a bad example for the Varden!" she motioned to the few who had enough interest to lift their heads from makeshift pillows.

"Sorry…" he sighed. "I guess I'm just drunk on love." They resumed their slow walk.

Saphira, in all her wisdom and experience, couldn't help but teas her rider, yet again.

"Drunk on love?" she queried.

"Yes."

She gazed at him thoughtfully. "And this means…?"

"It's just an expression…" Eragon could see what this would lead to. He had been in this situation recently, he realised.

"Meaning that love is a kind of ale?"

The boy sighed, and rubbed his temples. "No, it simply means that I'm happy, because I'm in love."

Saphira displayed a look of puzzlement on her serpentine features. "So, the expression should be happy on love?"

"No… Drunk on love." He seemed set on it.

"But you're not intoxicated?"

Eragon tried to form a plan of explanation in the short time he had to convince the dragon that English expressions didn't always have a literal meaning.

"It's trying to tell us that the feeling you get when you're in love gives you the happy feeling you get when you're drunk!" he crossed his arms happily.

"But love isn't ale, or wine."

"I know, Saphira. It's better than any of them put together." He started to drift off again into his own little world.

They settled the argument there. The pair reached their small, yet luxurious tent and flopped to the dusty road with obvious exhaustion. They where both about to drift off to sleep, until:

"Eragon, I know Arya is bubbly, but calling her wine is a bit much!"

--

**End!**


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